My Sinner ✓

Chapter-8 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖍𝖚𝖌

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"Sirish," I mutter lowly and nuzzle my nose in his chest. I can feel his confused gaze on me. I need him. I need some warmth of his. I need him for having my heart since we were kids. "Hug me?"

"What's wrong?" I know he is utterly shocked not understanding why I am not scolding him for kissing another woman in front of me but instead hugging him. "Namrata, speak something."

Tears flow from my eyes and I step away from him. Will he ever treat me at least as a friend?

I sit on the couch and start sobbing. "I know, Sirish," I cup my mouth as the pain I am feeling now can shatter the building if I sob loudly. "I know everything you all are trying to hide from me."

He stands still with no ounce of expression on his face. "What did you know? What are we hiding?" he asks, pretending to be all fine.

"Daddy is suffering from cancer," I cry. For a few seconds, he goes into a trance while I sob.

"When I walked into his room in search of the ring, I found his reports. I googled them and found them to be cancer. I don't know with whom I can share this pain if not with my husband who I was told will be my best friend," I cover my face with shivering hands. "Is it curable, Sirish?"

He stays calm and walks to me. "Don't cry, Namrata," he squeezes my shoulder.

I shake my head, holding his hand tightly, "Save my father, Sirish. I cannot live without him. Please," I cry holding his hand.

"Namrata," he sighs and sits beside me. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me to his chest, "Stop crying. If Uncle knows that you are aware of his disease, he will be heartbroken. Pretend that you don't know. Stop crying."

"No!" I scream holding his shirt lapels, "Save Daddy."

He closes his eyes and rests his cheek on my head while I sob my eyes out until my voice turns sore.

"Stop crying. Let's go home," he says.

"Hold me like this for a few minutes, Sirish. I don't know if I can hold myself anymore," I mumble between my eyes. He leans back and I slide into his lap, sliding my face into his neck as I stretch my legs over the couch.

Sirish caresses my hair while I wrap my arm around his neck and torso as my sobs continue to thunder in the penthouse.

"Is there anything more that I should know?" I ask him, in between my cries.

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

I nod with closed eyes mentally not ready to have an answer from him for the next question. "How many days can he live more?" I ask him as my lips quiver against his neck.

"No need to wonder if he dies even now," I gasp and palm his mouth.

My eyes form fresh tears. "Don't say that Sirish," I purse my lips together, "Please, don't say that."